


Option Three

by InksandPens



Category: Animator vs. Animation (Short Film 2006)
Genre: Angst, I got there eventually, I really don't know what else to label this with, I'm drawn out, and so does Chosen, this took way longer than I wanted it to
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:15:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28147437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InksandPens/pseuds/InksandPens
Summary: Historically, being less powerful than someone else in the area had never gone well for him. That was why he had to be the strongest, and had to make sure everyone else knew it.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 19





	Option Three

The Chosen One had experienced both the very bottom and the very top of the food chain. While at the bottom, he’s learned that those with power over others tended to abuse it. Skyrocketing to the top hadn’t actually offered any counterevidence.

If anything, it emphasized the earlier lessons. Abusing your power over others was too easy. It was best to just avoid everyone weaker than you who certainly didn’t deserve to be hurt that way.

Historically, being less powerful than someone else in the area had never gone well for him. That was why he had to be the strongest, and had to make sure everyone else knew it.

It wasn’t something to be bragged about, like The Dark Lord always had. It just meant you survived another day. On really good days, it could mean some other people survived too.

(Even if for no other reason than they wouldn’t be considered worthy targets, but _you_ , you offered a _challenge_ …

…perhaps it wasn’t the best survival tactic, but what good would showing weakness do? Concede once and you conceded your foreseeable future.)

When the orange stick had awoken his powers, Chosen had known immediately that he was no longer the strongest stick.

Aside from being drained from the preceding fight, The Second Coming displayed abilities far outside even Chosen’s considerable wheelhouse. The full might of Chosen’s flames and physical strength couldn’t keep the virabots down for long, and the orange stick had eviscerated an entire swarm of them instantly.

Oh, and he’d also resurrected the dead. Couldn’t forget that.

And then there was…whatever he’d done to…even Chosen’s eyebeams could never…he hadn’t even seen _what_ could’ve caused a windblast of that magnitude and it hadn’t blown the other stick back a _single pixel_ …

And then the animator’s cursor was carrying his limp body, cradled like…like…

(like a child)

…like something that deserved care, down to the ledge where Chosen stood, and the four stock figures posted themselves protectively around him like guardians, guarding someone so much stronger than they, and the cursor hovered over them all, doing nothing but also not leaving, which had to mean _something_ …

And then he woke up and he saw the stock figures and he wept. And the stock figures didn’t turn away and pretend they hadn’t seen the slip. They looked their leader’s weakness full in the face, and they offered support.

And then they noticed Chosen.

Admittedly, Chosen had drawn their attention.

(Don’t hide. If you hide they know you’re either a target or a threat.)

They pulled apart, but let him approach.

The Second Coming had saved him, had saved the entire internet for all Chosen knew, had done what Chosen couldn’t in the end. Had defeated the enemy, without assistance from an animator or a fellow stick or icons or even the environmental advantage offered within a desktop.

Historically, being less powerful than someone else in the area had never gone well for him. But…

He still remembered how they’d reacted to him earlier, when he clearly had been the strongest.

While attacking or fleeing were generally the most common reactions others had to Chosen’s presence, occasionally a…third option was taken. It was rare, and Dark Lord seemed to savor it for that, but it had always deeply unsettled Chosen, even more than the fleeing.

(After all, what good did showing weakness do? At least fleeing gave you some control, even if narrow. But concede once and you conceded your foreseeable future. How far could you foresee?)

So he’d _thought_ he’d understood what was happening back on alanspc, after he’d finally vanquished the virabot, employing nearly his entire powerset in the process. After all, if that wasn’t a show of strength, what was? If they couldn’t handle the virus, they had no hope against him.

If they’d attacked anyway, he would've fought his way through them as cleanly as possible. If they’d fled, he would’ve let them be. He couldn’t say he hadn’t been a little dismayed when he'd realized they'd chosen Option Three.

But their countenance hadn’t been the same in the slightest. The five had held nothing but awe in their gazes. They weren’t afraid at all.

_Thank you! You saved us!_

He’d heard it before, but never with…glee.

He didn’t really understand, and he didn’t stick around to try. He had more important things to do.

So he passed them by.

He’d passed others by. Back when no target had been too easy, he’d passed by the ones that…

His partner hadn’t. The Dark Lord could never resist a target, no matter how audacious, no matter how paltry.

No matter if they fought back. No matter if they fled.

And if neither of those had worked…

…but what good did showing weakness do? It hadn’t stopped Dark Lord.

…so what had?

Because he _had_ stopped. Eventually. Even as he clearly found the screams entertaining, Chosen remembered Dark Lord sparing the ones that begged.

What had stopped him? Because it hadn’t been the begging.

(Chosen couldn’t comprehend how it _couldn’t_ have been the begging, because that…

…that was how…)

Chosen had stopped him. Chosen passed them by, and Dark Lord noticed, and followed Chosen’s example like he always had back then.

 _Thank you_ , they’d said after. Some whispered, some shouted, many cried. _You saved us_.

And he’d felt sick.

It was best to just avoid everyone weaker than you.

But he was the weak one, now.

Historically…but…

He couldn’t forget their glee. Their total absence of fear. Even when he’d been the strongest.

The orange one had tried to protect him, even knowing the strength of his opponent. Even knowing Chosen’s strength.

The four stock figures had protected their mightier comrade, apparently disregarding power concerns altogether.

It should’ve been the other way around, he remembered thinking, as the orange one flinched but held his ground in the face of his first friend’s intimidating advance. They weren’t worthy targets, _he_ was the challenge, he should be protecting the weak ones-!

_Ah._

_That was it._

Showing weakness meant you weren’t a threat. It made you a target, but you weren’t a challenge.

The five had known they were weak, back on the desktop, and they hadn’t cared. Because he’d protected them.

He'd become the counterevidence.

Showing weakness earned you protection.

He hadn’t realized before. He’d been the one doing the protecting and he hadn’t realized it because he’d brought the danger in the first place.

He hadn’t been protected before.

He’d never voluntarily shown weakness before. Concede once, and…

But, as he gazed at them, he wondered if it would really be a concession.

(Anticipatory dread was a feeling Chosen was familiar with, but he didn’t know what to expect now, and that was a new type of fear.)

The Second Coming had apparently felt moved to protect him.

And Chosen was grateful. Chosen was also fairly sure he didn’t stand a chance against him. But the memory of a flinch and ground held told him he wouldn’t need to.

So, he took the option he’d never taken before. He bowed, and hoped they would be merciful.

“Thank you,” he said. And waited.

“… _for what?_ ” He heard one of them whisper.


End file.
